Oh, You Have Blogpourri On Your Shirt

First, Samuel L. had it all wrong, it's the snakes on the train that you have to worry about.

So the Missus needed "Pam," no the cooking spray.

No, for food, Beavis.

She was certain it was in the cupboard, but the drawback to the Costco-ization of our house was that we went searching from shelf to shelf for the can. Whoa, that's a lot of stuff in the back that needed to be 86'd.

Thus, to start the new fall season, the greatest of festivities was about to begin. More after the jump!


...well, um, there's no "jump," I guess. At any rate, more after the next paragraph...


A special "thank you" to the person that wedged their white Toyota Sienna within six inches of my driver's door. After waiting on you to come out for two minutes, I had to climb in via the passenger door and climb over the shifter, because I didn't have the time to wait on you and lose out on the washing machine in our apartment building. So once again, a special "thank you." That "thanks" is spelled f-c-k, "thanks." Oh wait, you know what's missing white Toyota Sienna driver? That's right, "u." Give yourself a pat on the back...with a katana.

Oh, yes, the festivities? Well, say it with me in a half-James Mason, half-Richard Harris, it's time for the purging of the vinegars. All those rice, balsamic and garlic vinegars. All those long forgotten jars of stir-fry, mojito and plum sauces.

The thing is that we recycle in this house, so all of those glass bottles and jars were to be emptied and taken down to the recycling bin. The drawback to being a good green citizen is the smell that these things made in the apartment as they were poured into the sink. Such an aroma, like a bad combination of a derelict winery and Chinese restaurant gone wrong. Human hell, raccoon heaven.

Even worse for The Missus, dealing with my constant recital of "it's time for the purging of the vinegars" as I did this.

I have a dream, but before you call me "Martin Luther Procrastinator," you should realize that my dream is not so grandiose. All I want is my own washer and dryer-

So that I don't have to rush home to get dibs on the wash room.
So that I don't have to stock insane amounts of clean clothes in case, the washroom doesn't come clean for days (the Laundromats are often at capacity before noon, chock full of med students and homeless) .
So that I don't have to touch other people's clothes and unmentionables, regardless of how "clean" they are.

Blogpourri pouring forth

I'm guessing it's synchronicity, Gordon Sumner. It certainly occurs to anyone who lives in a city, or lives or drives near a trailer park. I'm talking abandoned furniture blogs. Um, Jennifer? Meet Peggy Archer.


Oh, really? My beer just tells me to get fat and that's why my beer and I have long since parted company.

"I'm not getting into it, you get into it."
"I'm not getting into it, you get into it."
"I know, let's get Mikey!"

Apparently, Gertrude Stein, there's no studio there, either.

Nicknames and Blogpourri

The nicknames I like so far:

"Semper Scripta"
"Mr. Crispy"
"Write Compulsive"
"Cor"

New to the link-o-rama are the Bubs with possibly the longest blog name, ever.

Dead Spot is trying to revive The Bad Lieutenant's Wife. Bless you Spot, I think it would be easier to teach Anne (pubic hair) to say something nice about the Edwards Family.

I thanked Chris, but I'll bet he doesn't know.

P.S. "Always Write" and "Semper Scriptum" are already taken.

P.P.S. Dead Spot says "all of my submissions in this post but Live Free Or Die Fledermaus have a theme. If you can figure it out, you get a cookie. Or something."

June Blogpourri

First, from the Word Detective as I was looking up the origins of "nincompoop" for Procrastinator Junior and I found this tidbit.

Dear Word Detective: A friend of mine recently said that she felt there was some kind of jinx on her dating life, and this made me wonder about the word "jinx." The more I look at the word, the weirder it seems. Do you agree? Where does it come from? -- Emily Forsyth, King of Prussia, PA.

Yes, "jinx" is one very weird word. Part of what strikes us as weird about the word "jinx" may be the fact that words ending in "nx" are fairly uncommon in English, "larynx," "sphinx" and "phalanx" being the only ones most people ever encounter.

"Jinx" is, as you might suspect, an unusual word in other respects as well. It started out as a noun, meaning a charm or hex that brings bad luck or exercises evil influence, though your friend used it as a verb meaning to be cursed or to have bad luck either in general or in a specific endeavor (such as securing a palatable boyfriend). One curious thing about "jinx" is that, although belief in such curses and evil influences is thousands of years old, the word "jinx" itself is relatively new, first appearing in 1911.

Having posed that little puzzle, I will now solve it by explaining that "jinx" is actually an American misspelling of the much older (and even weirder) European word "jynx," which dates back to a suitably ancient 1649. And "jynx" holds the key to our mystery, because a "jynx" is also a type of Old World bird, a woodpecker also known as a "wryneck," named for its habit of twisting its neck when it is disturbed.

So now all we have to do is somehow connect your friend's substandard social life to an obscure European bird. And the answer is ... sorcery. It turns out that while jynxes make lousy dates (all the wrong sort of necking), jynx feathers were an essential ingredient in the potions and charms concocted by witches in the 16th century, so essential that the potions themselves eventually came to be known as "jynxes."

And since jinxes, strictly speaking, can be good as well as bad, all your friend needs now is a bird, a witch, and Mr. Right is just a cackle away.

Speaking of "jynxes," my ability to speak Italian is just about gone. I don't venture into North Beach (the Italian district in S.F.) and the Italians don't come over here, to my side of town. For one reason or another, I have to speak Spanish about six or seven times a week and unfortunately, I can't think in both languages.

So one language suffers at the expense of the other and the end result was I couldn't even tell this Italian couple how to get to Union Square. Cazzo, che vergonia!


Speaking of suffering at the expense of another, I've started and killed three short stories between Friday and Saturday mornings. All I have to show for this weekend that I've set aside for writing, are patches of dialogue that are sparse and dry like a Death Valley lawn.

On the good side, Forza Motorsports 2 is a lot of fun...







No, I said Motorsports, get yer mind outta da gutter!

I Take Blogpourri For $800 Again, Alex

What is "you need a sherpa to navigate through his links?"

Most people just throw their links up or at best, divide them into categories of interest. I try to add a brief description so that you, the reader, get an idea of why I frequent those blogs. Of course, by doing so, my links are a huge mess that are difficult to navigate.

So most of you have probably not noticed that I've added Amy, Dead Spot, Eric's World of Food, and the immortal Coaster Punchman. With the exception of the first six links, I don't play favorites. For this blog, I still have the old-fashioned template where I manually type everything in. I bounce the scroll wheel up and down, in a one-armed bandit fashion and where I click, is where the link is slotted.

There is no bearing on the order...though cooking for me can influence your slot.

What is Van Halen's "I'm On Fire," Alex?

I love Altoids and when you eat as much garlic as I do, they become a necessity. For some strange reason, the local supermarkets refuse to carry the Peppermint flavor and I haven't been able to make it to Costco. Rather than pay close to two bucks a tin at the corner stores, I bought a tin of the Cinnamon-flavored ones.

Now, I've never tried these before in my life, though my previous experience with the peppermint, spearmint and the chocolate-dipped mints suggested that I had nothing to worry about. I popped four of the cinnamon tablets in my mouth and let's just say that now I know firsthand how Bill Pullman felt in "The Last Seduction," when Linda Fiorentino maced him in the mouth.

What is "most likely to wind up in an insipid commercial, where an equally insipid Dennis Haysbert walks through traffic?"

In the past month, I've witnessed two new lows in driving: A driver that was eating, talking on his cell phone and reading, while driving. And another who was texting while driving.

The former was not doing all three at the same time. No, this miscreant was kind enough to alternate these actions, the six blocks that we were stuck behind him. The reading a book was a new one on me, though I've seen people read the paper while driving, all the time. That must have been one hellva book that he had to risk his life and everyone else's. He Jerry-rigged it to one of those clips that you use to hold pads, so that you can jot things down.

The latter miscreant was driving extra slow and I thought he was talking to his three passengers. When I finally got the opportunity to pass him, I noticed a glow that was coming from his steering wheel. He had his cell out and he was typing away. To his credit, he did at least manage to keep his car going in a straight line.

Unfortunately, because of double-parked cars, errant taxis and oblivious bus drivers, I had to deal with Mr. Text Driving again, some nine blocks later. I would like to thank everyone involved for making certain that I had to deal with this fifteen miles-per-hour text whore and I hope that someday soon, someone else will do the same for you.

Blogpourri

What is, "it's hard being a screenwriter," Alex?

For some reason, Terrence Howard's "Djay" is in my ha-yed, mah-nn. Mostly the accent.

What is, "going Annie Wilkes?"

Mind you, I wouldn't lock up some of my favorite authors and force them to write. That's just stupid (facial tic, facial tic) and wrong. If they won't become more prolific, then it's up to me to write the kinds of stories that I want to read.

Still, Eddie Muller has to have another book in him and The Blonde doesn't come out until November. Elvis Cole is strictly on vacation.

There is a promised Harry Bosch novella at the New York Times, that is serialized. I don't think the person who came up with that idea is a working parent. Otherwise, Echo Park isn't coming out until September 6th, where the folks across the pond get it before us. We have to wait until October 9th...WTF??? Did Tony Blair swing that deal?

What is, "put a cork in all that whistling?"

A certain product for men that has a mascot named "Smiling Bob," has an annoying theme song that is whistled. I'm not mentioning the product, only because I don't want to draw those people here when they Google for the stuff. I don't mind it when people whistle, but I'm not a fan of whistling themes, "Colonel Bogey March" from "The Bridge on The River Kwai" being the one exception.

But damn, that theme is annoying. Then Wendy's bought a whistling jingle that sounds just like a continuation of the "Smiling Bob" theme. Thank God for mute buttons or I'd go off on the jingle writers like Djay did on Skinny Black.

I'll Take Blogpourri For $500, Alex...

"What is 'video crack,' Alex?"

Sorry I've been away from the Internet, I was too busy conquering early 3rd century China. I've traded one addictive behaviour for another and this one requires entire too much time. I've had to build fortifications, set fire to enemy bases, ride across the fields cutting a path of destruction to rival that of Genghis Kahn, etc...

"Dynasty Warriors 5, Empires."

It's a hack n' slash/fighter/strategy/RPG with combo moves easy enough for a klutz like me to pull off. The cool part is when you vanquish an opposing general or a lieutenant, they turn into power up icons. Most of the time, they turn into "char siu bau," or "pork buns" in English.

"What is 'indifference,' Alex?"

Did you see that? The "Loot Fairy" bit was my 150th post, one-five-oh! Aren't you excited? Hmm?

Oh, wait, no, oh, excuse me. That wasn't excitement. Indian food and soda, deadly combination.

"What is 'Zidane giveth, Zidane taketh away?"

It pains me that it came down to that, but all you French fans can't be mad at the guy because he won another cup for you almost single-handedly. Everyone can say that the officiating was atrocious and they would be 100% correct.

It's simple, barring instant replay which isn't going to happen and can lead to more errors, you should have a stationary offical just to either side of the net. That way you don't have the referee in the constant trailing position and out of position to judge whether someone is off-sides and a whole lot less flops from fakers trying to draw a foul.

"What is the most beautiful thing in the world?"

La Coppia del Mondo en Roma!

"What is 'tapped out like a keg at a frat party?"

That would be me. I still have something like four territories remaining, but I have all of the south, the interior, and Bejing under my command. I have many miles to go, something like ten responses for the blog to respond to, there's sleep to be had somewhere, warlords to turn into dim sum, and I have my Elwood Brothers sunglasses on.

Not quite "a mission from God," more like a mission from odd.